Nothing Like The Movies
by Callisto-HK
Summary: When you watch a movie, you can anticipate the accidents and the chains of events after that. All the movies usually follow a prototype when it comes to a car crash. But reality looks nothing like the movies. Nothing goes that way and absently, you always wonder why! Dean and Sam would've wondered why, too, if they weren't busy trying to survive that accident!
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:** Umm, here's the thing; I felt that my other story, which I'm going to update soon; is kinda really dark. So, this one is full of comfort, even though **hurt** must come first for the **comfort** to mean something! Anyway, it's not so dark! ;)_

**_Hope you enjoy reading it and share your thoughts with me. ;)_**

**_Contains no spoilers._**

**_I wanted this story to be just a one-shot but since it got out of hand, it became a three chapter story!_**

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It was nothing like it is in the movies.

In the movies, you usually can say when things are going to get ugly.

In the movies, when an accident is about to happen, you see both -or more- sides of the accidents and you see that the truck driver either falls asleep behind the wheel or drops his stupid cellphone and bents down to grab it and that's when you know something bad is going to happen.

In the movies, usually just the truck driver is at fault and the truck is always coming from the opposite side of the road, unless the accident is bound to happen at an intersection, in which case the truck driver causes a wreak havoc by running a red light.

In the movies, the truck driver doesn't simply forget he's not the only one on the road and he sure doesn't suddenly put his foot on the brake pedal just because he's remembered that he's left his very stupid, very cheap watch in the diner.

In the movies, the driver of the other car involved in the accident is usually totally innocent; he or she is always just a victim and if they're the main characters, lots of drama will be involved, as well.

In the movies, those innocent drivers don't drive way too fast because they're mad at their passenger. They're innocent, remember?

In the movies, they see it when the accident is going to happen; they're just unable to avoid it.

In the movies, they do realize when the road is blocked, so they don't push harder on the accelerator and they sure don't ignore the passenger's warning shouts.

In the movies, when the accidents happen, there's always a witness, someone to call 911.

In the movies, moments after the horrific incident, the truck driver doesn't just ignore the whole thing and flee the scene of accident.

And finally, in the movies, the main character involved in the accident loses consciousness and wakes up _very slowly_, feeling groggy and wondering what has happened. They never jolt awake to find themselves in the passenger seat of their beloved car, with two _rebars _protruding out of their body; one out of their chest and another out of their stomach. They don't find themselves alone in the middle of the road with no one around and they do have the driver to help them out of the Oh-So-FUBAR situation.

So, it was nothing, _absolutely_ nothing like it is in the movies when that accident happened.

.

The truck driver, the same one who had remembered his cheap watch and so had stopped in the middle of the road, causing the accident; took one look in the rare view mirror and horrified of what his sudden stop had caused, fled the scene.

Sam, who'd been behind the wheel and was mad at Dean for being bossy again and for telling him how bad they needed a break, didn't realize when the truck stopped in the middle of the road and despite Dean's angry and frightened shouts, he pushed harder on the accelerator, adding to the seriousness of the accident.

He hit his head on the wheel, lost conscious and broke a rib and his right arm on impact. Less than two minutes later, when he opened his eyes, the truck was gone and they were all alone.

Pushing the door open, he got out of the car and stumbled a few feet away to take a look at the Impala, knowing that Dean would most definitely kill him for destroying his car and man, the hood _was_ damaged, and the windshield looked-

The car... Dean's car... _Dean_.

Sam's eyes widened as he remembered that he wasn't alone in the car.

Rushing to the passenger side, he came to an abrupt halt when he noticed Dean's condition. Turning around, he came to his knees and lost the contents of his stomach on the side of the road.

He was pretty sure that his brother was dead. And it was his fault. Literally his fault, this time; because there were no traces of any supernatural-being around. _-He could only hope and assume that the truck driver had not been possessed. -_ They were in the middle of nowhere and involved in a stupid friggin' car accident.

That wasn't fair.

All because he'd been angry and hadn't paid any attention to the road.

If he hadn't dealt with Dean in a worst condition, namely, being chewed and ripped apart by the hellhounds; Sam could never get a grip and check his brother for signs of life which fortunately were there. Dean had a pulse and although it was shallow and ragged, he was breathing.

Keeping his right arm as immobile as possible, Sam fished around in his pockets and pulled out his cellphone with his left hand and groaned when it jarred his broken and bruised ribs.

Checking the phone for a signal, he cursed out loud when he didn't find any, but of course there wouldn't be any signal. The fact that Dean hadn't instantly died with those two rebars in his chest was beyond their usual luck and wanting something like a cellphone signal was obviously too much to ask.

.

In the movies, people know that they shouldn't leave the scene of accident, at least not without informing the one pinned down and in the movies they know that they should somehow stabilize the rebars and slow down bleeding as much as possible. But then again, in the movies, people don't have a _real_ concussion and they're not in real mind-numbing pain that would block any logical thoughts.

So, Sam being in pain and concussed, forgot about all those vital things and set off at a jog down the road, hoping to get phone signal or find a passer-by to help them. At that moment, it didn't matter how many times he'd dealt with precarious situations in the past; you could never say what a concussion and a lot of stress could do to someone.

Those were the reasons why when Dean suddenly jolted awake, he found himself all alone.

Not for the rebars pinning him to seat, he would've thrown himself out of the car to throw up his guts.

You'd think after seeing so many gory things throughout his life, Dean would be immune to something like that, but the truth is nothing can prepare you to look down at yourself and find two metal poles sticking out of your chest. That was a scene worth feeling sick to stomach.  
But either for the sense of being pinned or just because he was trained and experienced, Dean managed to swallow down the bile that was rising in his throat. Of course, it could be just because he abhorred the mere idea of puking on himself and risking a nasty infection on top of the awful stench and unpleasant view of being covered in his own puke.

Turning his head as far as he could without jarring his injuries, he tried to look out of the driver's side open door to locate Sam.

There were no signs of Sam and Dean didn't like the blood stains on the side window.

"Sa-" he tried to yell his brother's name, but the name got caught in his throat as pain hit him full force.

Squeezing his eyes shot, he willed the pain to subside, even if only a little bit so he could call out his brother's name.

After several long seconds -_or maybe minutes? _-, he finally managed to calm down his breathing and try again. His voice was barely above a whisper at first, but after a couple of tries, he called for Sam loud enough that if Sam was anywhere near the car, he would've heard him.

The thing is Sam wasn't around and that really worried Dean. The worst possible scenarios rushed to his mind and no matter how hard he tried, one of those annoying thoughts wouldn't go away; _'What if Sam was taken?'_

I mean, what would you think if you were a hunter and woke up after a car crash, only to find the other vehicle gone, along with your brother?

Both the driver door and the passenger one were open and Dean in his effort to come up with something to fill in the blanks in his memory, thought that whoever had taken Sam, must've tried to take him, too, only to find him pinned to seat. They probably had thought that he was either dead or would die shortly, which was another grim thought that Dean was trying to avoid. Dying wasn't an option. He had to find Sam and he had to do it fast.

Hoping that the rebars hadn't gone too far inside, he reached to grab one with shaking hands.

He knew full well what a horrible idea it was to pull the metal pole out; he could very well bleed to death or cause some severe damage, but his thoughts were jumbled and his priority was Sam.

Looking down at himself, he reluctantly decided to pull out the rebar in his stomach, first. That one didn't seem, or rather _feel,_ to have gone too far after entering his body. So, clenching his teeth and squeezing his eyes tightly shut, he pulled the rebar with both hands.

.

An ear-bleeding scream left the car and filled the whole area, sending every other creature into a dreadful silence.

A couple of miles away, Sam stopped in his track and shock filled his eyes as he looked back up the road where he'd left the car.

That was... _Was that Dean?_

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**... TBC ...**

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**A/N: I'd love to know what you think! :)**

**Sorry for any mistakes.**

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	2. Chapter 2

_An ear-bleeding scream left the car and filled the whole area, sending every other creature into a dreadful silence._

_A couple of miles away, Sam stopped in his track and shock filled his eyes as he looked back up the road where he'd left the car._

_That was... Was that Dean?_

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Forgetting his goal and even his pain, Sam quickly took off for the car, screaming Dean's name over and over again. It might've taken him a long time to traverse that couple of miles -_and there was __still _no phone signal- but running back didn't take much time at all.

Within a few minutes he was by the car and panting hard.

"Dean." he called again as he reached Dean's door.

What he saw made him lose the control over his stomach for the second time that day.

Once he was done retching, he looked back at Dean, who was slumped forward in his seat, at least as far as the metal pole in his chest would allow him; with his hands on his laps, slack and covered in blood.

The rebar in his chest was still there, but the one in his stomach was out now and the wound was bleeding heavily.

Damn Dean; he clearly had pulled the thing out, which explained the scream Sam had heard earlier.

Taking his jacket off, which was a really hard task considering his broken arm and rib; he folded it and pushed hard against Dean's stomach with his good arm.

Once again, Dean jolted awake and arched his back as the piercing pain assaulted him.

"Dean." Sam's eyes widened. "Dean, calm down." he tried to calm his brother down, but it wasn't happening.

Dean was in so much pain that he couldn't hear anything.

Minutes later, when the wave of pain subsided a notch, Dean was finally able to hear Sam's frantic voice, telling him to take a breath and stay still.

"Sa-?" He pried his eyes open slightly and looked at his brother who was leaning forward against his stomach and apparently was trying to tell Dean something.

"What the hell, Dean?" Sam growled.

"You..." Dean panted. "You... OK?"

"I don't know. I'm pretty sure I just had a heart attack; my second one in the last few minutes. What the hell, Dean?" he repeated vehemently. "Why in the hell did you pull that thing out? You're bleeding heavily and I can't stop it. You have a death with or something?"

"Weren't there." Dean replied weakly.

"What?" Sam frowned.

"You... You weren't there. Thought..." he swallowed. "Thought you were ta-... taken. Needed... to... Fi... Find you."

For a moment, Sam was speechless. '_Stupid, dumb-head, selfless son of a bitch.'_ He thought and shook his head. "Dean, I was gone just for a few minutes and just because I was trying to find us some help."

"Blood on the window." Dean pointed out.

"Well, yes." Sam almost rolled his eyes. "I hit my head in the accident and probably have a concussion."

"The truck's gone." Dean's breathing was finally calming down and he was sounding more coherent.

"Yes." Sam growled again. "That son of a bitch took off without a backward glance." He, of course, had no way of knowing for sure since he hadn't been awake when that had happened, but if the other driver had cared enough to check on them, he wouldn't have left; which meant he'd left without a backward glance.

"You OK?" Dean tried to assess Sam with his eyes. The first thing he noticed was the trail of dried blood on Sam's face and his damp hair and the second thing he saw was Sam's bruised and swollen wrist.

A smirk appeared on his face. "You broke the same wrist again." he said, remembering the other time when Sam had broken his right wrist during a hunt.

Sam rolled his eyes. "At least I'm not the one becoming one with the car. I know you love your car, but this is too much, don't you think?"

"Where were you, Sam?" Dean asked instead, like he hadn't heard Sam's quip.

His mind had involuntarily gone back to when he hadn't found his brother and now that he was back, he couldn't help but think that if Sam wasn't taken, maybe he'd just left him there in the middle of nowhere. '_But he's back now, isn't he?' _he argued back in his mind.

Sam frowned. He'd just told Dean that he'd left to find some help, but clearly the older man couldn't remember it and that was either due to his injuries and blood loss or because he'd been too out of it the first time that Sam had explained. Personally, Sam preferred the latter.

"There's no phone service here." Sam said and looked Dean in the eyes to make sure he was lucid. "I had to go to find some help and well,... Umm, I was kinda out of it myself and forgot to leave a note or something for you. Sorry. Should've at least tried to wake you up first."

Dean blinked sluggishly a few times and for a second Sam thought that Dean wasn't following the conversation, but then Dean nodded his head and exhaled deeply. "Thought you were taken." he repeated what seemed to have become his mantra.

Feeling a cold shiver running down his spine, Sam realized that the reason for Dean's earlier confusion had been a combination of both blood loss and pain and they were still bad enough to make Dean sound loopy.

"Have you checked the car?" Dean asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"What?" '_Was Dean really asking about the car while he was literally bleeding to death in the middle of nowhere?'_

"Maybe it still works." Dean elaborated and Sam found an unexpected feeling of mirth washing over him. Dean wasn't that out of it. In fact, he seemed very lucid again.

Inwardly cursing himself for not thinking about it sooner, Sam threw a glance at the driver seat, contemplating how to get there and still keep the pressure on Dean's wound.

Dean must've seen the look on his face, because the next thing Sam knew, Dean's hand was on the jacket folded over his stomach. "Go. That's our best shot."

"I... I don't really think the car is in any shape to run. It's pretty messed up." Sam said, remembering the state of the car's hood.

"Don't underestimate my baby." Dean rebuked and motioned with his head for Sam to go to the other side of the car, while he tried hard to muster some energy to keep his blood on the inside, where it should be.

True to Dean's words, the car came to life with a roar and although it was making abnormal noises, at least it got started.

Jumping out of the car, Sam quickly went to Dean's side and closed the door and before coming back to the driver side he took a look at the windshield and grabbed the rebar that Dean had pulled out of his stomach and pulled it completely out of the windshield. It shouldn't be anywhere near Dean.

Getting behind the wheel, Sam put the car in gear. "Where to? Backward or forward?"

"We don't know where the next town is. Let's go back; at least we know we're not far from the last one." Dean reasoned.

Nodding his agreement, Sam slowly and carefully turned the car around, cautious of all the bumps in the road. The slightest jolts could turn out deadly for Dean and Sam wasn't ready to take that risk.

"Never ever underestimate my baby." Dean smiled faintly and leaned his head back.

"Hey, no sleep." Sam said hastily when he realized that Dean had closed his eyes.

"Just res-"

"No resting for now. Please, Dean." he begged.

Opening his eyes, Dean cast a look at his brother and noticed the fear in his eyes. "I'm alright."

"No. No, you're not. But you'll be. Just hang on, OK?"

"OK, Sammy."

Sam's eyes were moist; there was a day when he hated that nickname and these days, he longed to hear it coming out of Dean's mouth. It hurt to think that these days Dean would call him by that nickname only when something was really wrong; like when one of them was one step away from meeting a reaper again.

"Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"You putting pressure on that wound?" Sam asked worriedly.

"Hmm." Dean replied tiredly and tried to keep his eyes open for Sam's sake.

"Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"Sorry about your car."

Dean blinked owlishly. "You'll fix it."

Sam smiled ruefully. "Are you sure you want me to?"

Thinking for a second, Dean shook his head feebly. "No. OK, you'll pay for it."

Sam chuckled.

"Dean?" he spoke up again after a few seconds of silence.

"Hmm?" Dean sounded as calm as he did the first time; he knew Sam was rattled and it didn't bother him that his brother was trying to find a way to make sure he was still with him.

"Sorry."

"Pretty sure you just said that."

"No. Not about your car."

"You're not sorry you totaled my car?" Dean frowned.

Rolling his eyes, Sam sighed. "I _am_ sorry about that, but it wasn't what I apologized for this time."

"What was that for, then?"

"For... For what happened to you. For this accident."

"Sam, you weren't the one stopping a fucking truck in the middle of the road without any warning." Dean uttered; as hard as it was to talk, Dean thought that it was necessary to make sure Sam was alright. Physically _and_ mentally.

"I wasn't paying enough attention to the road. You saw it way before me."

"True." Dean said sagely.

"Sorry."

"OK."

_'That's it?' _Sam thought, slightly concerned, but then he shrugged mentally. Dean really wasn't the type to hold a grudge. "And sorry for getting angry in the first place."

"What were we fighting about, Sam?" Dean asked, suddenly scared that he couldn't remember anything about their argument. Wasn't it a bad sign?

Sam was silent for a few seconds and finally shook his head. "I'm not sure." he sighed.

_'Oh, OK. If Sam couldn't remember it either, then it couldn't be a bad sign.'_

"Seems like we do that a lot, lately." Sam continued.

"Do what?" Dean felt he'd missed a part of the conversation.

Sam shrugged. "Arguing. We do that a lot and without a good reason. We just do."

"Hmm." Dean acknowledged. Sam had a point. It wasn't something new, though. He couldn't remember the last time they had some real _fun_ together, enjoying each other's company.

It was years ago.

Man, had they really started to take each other's presence for granted? The thing was that they'd gotten _used to_ losing each other and then being back together again. That was the worst thing about the whole dying or vanishing and then coming back from it. '_Life'_ had lost its precious meaning in their eyes.

"Man, this sucks." Sam suddenly blurted out.

Apparently he'd been having the same train of thought as Dean, because it was on the tip of Dean's tongue to say '_It sucks' _when Sam said it. So, instead, Dean said, "Out loud."

"When did we stop caring?" Sam asked quietly.

"I don't think we did."

_'True_._'_ Sam thought. Or they wouldn't have freaked out after an accident. He chuckled bitterly, "of all the things, a damn freak accident should open our eyes. Just us, Dean."

Dean chuckled as well, albeit it sounded faint and far away.

He was fading fast.

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**... TBC ...**

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**A/N: I'd love to know what you think! :)**

**All mistakes are mine.**

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	3. Chapter 3

_"Of all the things, a damn freak accident should open our eyes. Just us, Dean."_

_Dean chuckled as well, albeit it sounded faint and far away._

_He was fading fast._

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Sam was constantly checking his cellphone and as soon as he saw the signal bars, his heartbeat elevated as he dialed 911 and asked for help.

He could see how fast Dean was fading and it was clear that his brother was in immediate need of medical attention. And sadly, it wasn't like Sam could just take him to the ER so they could save him; there was still a damn rebar in Dean's chest which would need more than some paramedics to get rid of.

Soon, in the middle of their way to the hospital, Sam saw an ambulance and a fire truck coming their way.

He brought the car to a halt and the medics and firefighters all jumped out and busied themselves with Dean as two other paramedics came to check up on Sam.

Sam really wanted to protest; he wanted to tell them help Dean who had turned a scary shade of grey and blue; but he didn't have enough energy and shortly after that he lost consciousness.

Dean could feel that he didn't have much time left; he wanted to make sure that those paramedics were taking care of his brother and he wanted to talk to Sam one last time. But Sam had already lost the battle with unconsciousness and Dean knew he wasn't far behind.

"Sam." he called weakly.

A hand gripped his shoulder and a firefighter came to view. "He's in good hands. Don't worry. We're getting both of you out of here and to the hospital."

"How bad?" Dean wanted to know.

"Bad, but you'll be alright. You both will." the man smiled reassuringly.

"My car." '_OK, that might sound stupid to you. But to Dean, it was important and he really didn't want his car to be left in the middle of the road if he could help it._

The man chuckled. "I'll get one of my men to drive it to a parking lot. OK?"

"Good. Thanks." Dean smiled wanly. "Safe?"

"It'll be safe."

"Carl."

Dean heard someone call and the firefighter who'd been talking to him turned his attention to one of his men and a few seconds later turned his gaze back to Dean. "Hey, we're ready to get into action. We have to cut this rebar and free you from the car. I'm not gonna lie to you, it won't be easy since it's gone through to the seat, but we'll do our best not to jolt you too much."

"And I'm giving you a shot of morphine right now." a paramedic, a brunette, told him from the other side, where Sam had been minutes ago and that was then that Dean realized Sam wasn't there anymore. He must've passed out at some point, because he couldn't remember them taking Sam away.

"He's in the other ambulance; they want to take him to the hospital." the paramedic said, reading the look of concern in Dean's eyes. "You'll join him in no time." she smiled as she adjusted the blood bag which had also appeared out of nowhere.

"OK, we're as ready as we'll ever be." she said to the firefighter who was still crouching in front of Dean.

"No." Sam's angry yell stopped them from what they were about to do and seconds later, Sam appeared at Dean's side. The paramedics wanted to lead him away, but Carl, the leader of firefighters decided that it'd be better for everyone if they just let Sam stay.

And surprisingly, _or not, _Dean seemed calmer after that.

Sam kept talking to him, murmuring apologies and squeezing Dean's arm and though Dean wanted to talk back to reassure his brother, it was taking all his energy just to keep his mouth shut. Whatever they were doing to him was agonizing and despite the shot of morphine, he felt like his inside was on fire.

At the end, when they were detaching the metal pole from the seat, Dean finally lost it; he couldn't take it anymore and a loud long piercing cry of pain left his lips and he lost consciousness, dropping bonelessly into Carl's protective arm.

Carl had to be extra careful of the rebar in Dean's chest; taking him to the hospital with that thing still attached to him wasn't going to be easy. He just hoped they could take it out in the hospital and that Dean would survive.

Everything that happened after that, happened so quickly that Sam couldn't recall them later.

One second he was terrified to death as Dean went limp and fell forward and the next, they were on their way to the hospital; both in the _same_ ambulance, apparently because the rescue team had realized it wasn't wise to separate those brothers.

Blinking his eyes lazily, Sam decided that he couldn't fight it any longer and he gave in to the darkness.

...

Dean felt like he was floating and he really really _really_ hated that feeling; it was a feeling that always came with either heavy painkillers or anesthetics.

He knew he was lying on a bed, and somehow it made things even worse, because if he were standing and had vertigo, he could always lie down and wait for it to go away, but if he got vertigo while lying down, it'd feel like that his head was heavy and pinned down to the pillow and the rest of his body was floating somewhere above the bed and the sad thing was that there was nothing he could do about it; he just had to swallow back the bile in his throat and hope that he wouldn't end up retching, because it would be extra painful.

Sadly, once again this vertigo was the first thing he felt after coming around.

Opening his eyes, he stared at the ceiling and tried to focus on something other than his vertigo, in hope of reminding his brain that he was neither flying nor swimming, which meant he shouldn't feel like floating. Only if his brain would understand!

"Dean?" he heard Sam's voice and judging by the fear in his voice, he must've been calling his name a few times.

Taking his eyes from the white ceiling, Dean slowly turned his gaze towards where he'd heard his brother's voice and when the room started to spin around his head, he immediately closed his eyes, which proved to be a terrible idea, because the darkness actually added to the feeling of suspension. The only thing that reminded Dean that he was in fact lying in a very _solid_ bed was a hand on his upper arm, and Dean thought he could kiss whoever that had thought about holding him down at that moment.

Finally the vertigo subsided and Dean was able to look around without worrying about throwing up and that was only then that he remembered everything that had happened-... _Wait, how long ago was that?_

"Hey." he croaked. His voice was raspy and hoarse.

"Hey yourself." Sam smiled tentatively. "Amy, your nurse, said everything is looking good."

Dean frowned. Well, that was... _Good to know_, he supposed. He just wasn't sure why Sam would mention it right then.

"She was just here." Sam explained as he read the question in Dean's eyes.

_'She was?'_ Huh, he certainly hadn't noticed that.

"Your doctor will be by, shortly. How do you feel?"

"Thirsty."

"Umm, Amy also said that you still can't have any water. She'll come back with some ice chips."

"Why?"

Sam tilted his head. "Because she knew you'd be thirsty?"

Dean would _so_ roll his eyes if he wasn't sure his vertigo would rush back. "Why not water?"

"Oh, right." Sam nodded. "Well, I'm not exactly sure, but I think that's because that rebar's penetrated your small intestine and your doctor doesn't want to risk anything for a while."

"What's it?" Dean was feeling stronger with each passing second and now he could clearly see how rattled Sam looked. "You alright? Anything serious?" he assessed Sam.

"With me?" Sam blinked with confusion. "No. A broken wrist; a mild concussion; one broken and two cracked ribs. I was released two days ago."

"Two _da_-" Dean wasn't sure he had heard right. "What?"

"That's right, you idiot. I was released two _days_ ago and it'd taken them two other days to do that, which means you've been unresponsive for _four_ days. Four fucking days, Dean. They weren't even sure that you'd make it. Dammit. You can't keep doing this."

"I wasn't the one behind the wheel; you know that, right?" Dean did roll his eyes this time and inwardly he thanked heaven for not feeling any worse afterwards.

That quickly and surely deflated Sam's anger and a look of guilt replaced the fire and fear in his eyes.

"Hey." Dean reached out and grabbed Sam's arm. "Didn't say that to make you feel guilty. Just saying that, at least this time, there was nothing I could do to prevent this."

Sam nodded and looked away.

"Sam." Dean called his name so firmly that left no room for argument.

Sighing deeply, Sam finally looked back. The anguish in his eyes made Dean's stomach flip-flop, but he knew that the best thing to do was to avoid any touchy feely subject. "So, what's the verdict?"

"That's a question for your doctor."

"I'm sure you've interrogated him already." Dean grinned.

Sam smirked faintly. "The rebar in your chest had gone right through your right lung. But since it stayed there the whole time and had been almost immobile, it didn't cause much damage. They repaired your lung and your doctor believes that it'll be back to normal in a few weeks. That is, of course, if you don't do anything stupid which you won't, because I'll make sure of that." Sam glared at Dean and dared him to protest; so when Dean didn't do anything but raise an eyebrow, Sam continued, "the one in your stomach, though;" he shook his head, "the one that you _foolishly_ pulled out, has actually caused more damage. Your heart stopped Dean. _Twice_. And all because of blood loss and hypovolemic shock. You stupid bastard." Sam blinked away unshed tears and Dean decided not to point out that he'd thought that Sam had been taken. He felt he'd already mentioned that, once or twice. _He had, hadn't he?_ He wasn't sure.

"They repaired the tear in your intestine and you have to take it easy for some weeks."

"That's it?"

"As if it's not enough." Sam growled. "You also have a mild concussion and hey, did I mention the massive blood loss? Like _super_ massive that almost killed you twice. Oh wait, it _did_ kill you; they just managed to bring your ass back."

"Good thing I didn't start with the rebar in my chest then." Dean said absently, remembering back in the car, when he'd been trying to decide which rebar should come out first.

Sam turned white at the thought. "Dean. The one entering your chest had come out of your back and had gone straight to the seat." '_How in the hell did Dean think he could pull that one out?'_ But then again, it was Dean; the idiot would do _anything_ if he thought Sam was in danger; like Sam was a five-year old who couldn't fight his own battles. "I can take care of myself, dammit. What should I do to make you have some faith in me?"

"What?" _'Had he black out and missed a part of the conversation again? Where did that come from?'_ "You're my brother, Sam and no matter how old you are, I can't help but think of you as my baby brother, alright? I _need_ to make sure you're fine. Besides, tell me; wouldn't you do the same if you thought I was in danger?"

_He totally would._ Sam thought and sat back. "Somehow it's always you doing the stupid things."

And they both knew that it was because Dean usually wouldn't let anything happen to Sam in the first place and the few times that he hadn't been able to prevent the mishap-... Well, let's not go there.

Feeling his eyelids getting heavier, Dean asked one last important question. "What about my baby?"

He fell asleep right after that, unable to get an answer; but while he was drifting off, he promised himself that it'd be his fist question next time he woke up.

"She'll be alright." Sam shook his head and smiled. "I, on the other hand,..." he sighed. "I won't be, once you see the state of your car." he said, sounding somehow like a scared little kid.

Dean was _so_ going to kill him.

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**... The END ...**

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**A/N: Thanks a lot for every alert, favorites and especially comments that you left me. Your kind words always make my day. :)  
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**Let me know what you think of this last chapter! ;)**

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**All mistakes are mine.**

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